Inkblot Alchemist and the Book of Abraham
by Twin-Lupus
Summary: The military has discovered a way to recruit rogue alchemist Ian Petros: show him pages of the Book of Abraham, which is said to hold the secrets to life itself. [Izzy]


Author's note: Here and throughout, Fullmetal Alchemist and any related ideas do not belong to me. All principal characters in this story, however, are my property.

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Inkblot Alchemist and the Book of Abraham

Chapter One: Like Ink Through Their Fingers

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A young officer, fully decked out in overlarge military dress, skidded down the hallway of the State Army's Western Headquarters. He dashed to the end of the hall, threw open the door, and stood panting at the entrance of the room.

Immediately, the young man realized he had done something wrong.

Lieutenant Colonel Isaac Hayes, Western Division, rose quickly from his seat. He was a big, well-built man with a terribly annoyed look on his face. Hayes strode forward from behind his desk toward the young man who had just burst into his office.

"Do not interrupt me while I am having a meeting!" commanded Hayes, staring down at least a foot at the young man before him. The man with whom Hayes was meeting, a Major in his mid-twenties, shrunk back in his seat at Hayes' desk, having heard stories of the Lieutenant Colonel's volcanic anger. "At least think to knock when you are entering the office of a superior!" continued Hayes.

The ensign squirmed in his too-big army vest. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It's just that they gave me this sheet of paper while I was walking down the hall and told me to give it to you. I don't even know what it is, sir, I just –"

"Give me that, ensign!" said Hayes sternly, snatching the paper powerfully out of the young man's hand. The Lieutenant Colonel looked down at the paper, and for a split second, his features registered a glint of excitement that soon turned back into his usual scowl.

Hayes returned to his seat. He slapped the paper on his desk and sat down. The Major looked over and gasped when he glanced at the sheet. "Petros?" the Major asked. "The same Petros who the Western Police force just slapped in jail, the one who –"

"Ssh!" snapped Hayes. "Not with a junior officer around!" He stood up once again. "Dismissed, ensign!"

"Yes, sir!" stammered the ensign, and he spun on his heel and stumbled away as fast as he could.

Hayes took his seat. "Yes, it's that Petros. We're going to try and recruit his services."

"But I hear he's a wild card," said the Major. "I wouldn't trust him to be recruitable."

"Trust me, he'll come," smirked Hayes. "He won't be able to resist."

The Major took a closer look at the sheet of paper the ensign had brought. It was a military dossier, though the picture on it was one taken for the state prison.

_Ian Petros_

_Age: 29_

_Height: 1.8 m _

_Weight: 75 kg_

_Hair: black_

_Eyes: brown_

_Alchemic ability: present, target is unregistered as an Alchemist_

_Criminal record:_

_Petty theft – cleared of all charges_

_Killing in self-defense – 4-month sentence served_

_Murder – sentenced, sentence terminated_

"Why terminated?" asked the Major, gesturing to the spot on the page.

"Oh, didn't you hear?" said Hayes nonchalantly. "He escaped."

The Major's eyes went wide.

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Steel-tipped boots skidded through the puddles that dotted the stone alleyway. The sky was overcast, though the rain had already stopped. Chilly water soaked through rough canvas pants and dripped against his legs, mingling with the sweat. In his hand was a tan folder overflowing with papers.

Ian Petros stopped in the alleyway and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He stood up, a sardonic grin stretching across his hollow face. Petros ran a hand through his short dark hair, then suddenly stiffened as he felt something cold and hard press against his back.

"That didn't even take ten minutes," sneered the police officer whose gun was pressed against Petros' spinal cord. "Heh…I thought they said you were hard to catch."

"They were right," said Petros, grinning. He pressed his left thumb against his left middle finger and snapped.

Suddenly, deep violet light shot from between Petros' fingers. Out of thin air, tendrils of black ink flew from the criminal's hand and covered the police officer's mouth and nose. Gasping for air, the officer dropped his gun from Petros' back.

Ian Petros took the officer's gun and stepped on it, driving it forcefully into the ground. He flashed a quick, empty smile at the officer, then took off through the alleyway, leaving ripples in the small pools of water.

The policeman's fellow officers arrived less than a minute after Petros had left.

Their superior was dead.

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Petros once again paused for breath, at least a mile from the site where he had asphyxiated the police officer. He sat down in another empty alley and opened the folder that was in his hand. Petros glanced at each piece of paper, then threw it aside with an angry grunt. In no time, the folder was empty. Sheets of paper were strewn all around the alleyway.

Petros laughed sardonically. All that work for nothing.

Suddenly, a laugh rang out through the alleyway. Lieutenant Colonel Hayes stepped from the shadows with a smile on his face.

"Ian Petros," said Hayes, rubbing his hands together. "How are you?"

"I don't have to answer to you, _slave_ of the army," said Petros. "You're here for a reason."

"Aren't you the smart one," laughed Hayes. "In fact, Mr. Petros, I have a proposition for you."

"I don't want to hear it," said Petros coldly. He snapped the fingers of his left hand together. Once again, a violet light burst from his fingertips and bolts of ink shot themselves through the air at the Lieutenant Colonel.

Before the ink reached Hayes, the Lieutenant Colonel had drawn his standard army-issue sword. The ink spurted harmlessly against the blade's steel.

"Come now, Mr. Petros," said Hayes, still with a smile on his face. "We don't want to start anything. I'm not stupid; I know you killed the officer back there. I know what you're capable of and I'm not planning to get myself killed in this alleyway."

"Then what is it you're so interested in?" said Petros cynically. "Am I a special magical person? Do you need me to save the world?"

"Hardly," answered Hayes. "But you're right – I do want you to join the army."

"What _possible_ incentive could there be to make me join the army?" asked Petros, as a condescending expression arranged itself on his face.

"Trust me, Petros, there's an incentive," said Hayes, suddenly all business. "Now that you mention it, I have something for you…if you decide to work for me."

Ian Petros grunted. "There's nothing you could have that I would want."

"Are you so sure?" grinned the Lieutenant Colonel. He reached into his uniform and pulled out three small sheets of paper. There was no writing on them, but each sheet had on it a small, intricately designed circle imprinted in its middle.

Petros suddenly gasped. "That's not possible!"

"Ah, a crack in the stone of Ian Petros," said Hayes. "You're not mistaken, these are pages of _the book_."

"I don't have to work for you to get you to give them to me," said Petros. He snapped the fingers on his left hand once again, and the ink shot itself at the Lieutenant Colonel.

Hayes raised his blade again, but the ink oozed around it and enveloped the three small sheets of paper in the officer's hand. The ink-bound pages flew back through Hayes's grasp to Petros, who caught them deftly with one hand. He shook the ink off them and pressed his other hand to the transmutation circle on the top sheet.

A red light, similar to that which had erupted from Petros' hand, burst from the paper. When it faded, one sentence of flowing black script had appeared on the page.

_Like I said, I'm not stupid_.

"A fake," said the alchemist. "I should have expected as much."

"I knew you would try to take them," said Hayes. He removed a new piece of paper from his uniform. It, unlike the previous three, seemed somehow old and worn. "This _is_ a real page of the book, which I'm sure you don't believe at this point. But here, take a look."

It was the army officer's turn to snap his fingers. Petros suddenly found himself surrounded by eight soldiers who had leapt from the roof above him. Petros was quick, but he had been entranced with the possibility of the Book of Abraham being within his grasp, and eight soldiers proved more than enough. Two of them grabbed his hands and separated the fingers from the thumb.

Ian Petros did not bother to struggle.

"So you know how I transmute," Petros said with a smirk. "You've done your homework."

"Right again, alchemist," said Hayes. He walked up to Petros and motioned one of the soldiers to come to him. The soldier, who had a gleaming silver pocketwatch hanging from his military uniform, put his hand to the transmutation circle in the center of Hayes' new sheet of paper. A red light glowed from the page, and when the officer removed his hand, flowing black words had again revealed themselves in the center of the ancient leaf of paper. The script was unfamiliar to Petros: it seemed to be an ancient language, hard to decipher, and there seemed to be some sort of map at the bottom of the page.

"The language of the book," said Petros quietly. "Impossible to reproduce, nearly impossible to decipher. This…is it."

"I know, Mr. Petros," said Hayes, with a triumphant smirk on his face. "So what do you say now? It is so much easier for everyone if you don't have to try and steal this page of the book. Trust me, it is so well-protected that you would not stand a chance even if you tried. Consider this: if you choose to join us, you will only need to carry out a certain number of assignments. Once they have been completed, we will allow you to see this page. Keep in mind, Mr. Petros, we have you in a compromising position at this point. These soldiers and I are currently in control of your life, but the final decision concerning your future is, of course, up to you."

Petros stared at the ground. "What choice do I have?" he sneered through his teeth. _I'm not letting the book slip through my fingers_.

"Then we have ourselves a deal, Mr. Petros," boomed the Lieutenant Colonel. "Knowing you would accept my offer, I took the liberty of assigning you a title as state alchemist." Hayes flashed the silver pocketwatch, just like that of the soldier who had revealed the page of the Book, that was the emblem of the state alchemists. "Ian Petros, you may now consider yourself an unofficial state alchemist of the military. Once we get your paperwork sorted out at headquarters, you'll be able to take on actual missions. Oh, and as for your title, I spent quite a few long hours coming up with it. As an official officer of the military, you'll be known as the Inkblot Alchemist."

Petros gave another sardonic chuckle. "Inkblot, huh? I could get used to that."

Hayes's laugh echoed through the dark alleyway.

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Next: Petros' first assignment leads him to a city in the grip of a ferocious heat wave. At the same time, the newly christened Inkblot Alchemist is forced to deal with disturbing memories that seem to arise from nowhere. What is the truth behind these memories, and what does the military truly have in store for Petros?


End file.
